Piper Presents
by defying3reason
Summary: People often wonder why a wannabe do-gooder pseudo-criminal like the Pied Piper keeps getting invited back for team ups with the rogues...update: fluffy fix-it fic!
1. Piper Presents

People often wondered why the Rogues continued to invite the Pied Piper back, given his *ahem* queer moral leanings. The answer was stunningly simple, and Captain Cold was getting a little sick of explaining it. Piper was invited back for the same reason everyone else was, because he was useful.

And it wasn't just the hypnotic abilities. Aforementioned fetish for morality actually killed the usefulness of his main gimmick for the other Rogues. After all, a hypnotist who felt guilty about taking advantage of people in a vulnerable mental state was more of an annoyance to a band of super criminals than an asset.

Piper was useful for the same attribute that pissed his cohorts off. A wannabe do-gooder pseudo-criminal had a lot in common with the Capes, and thus was an insight into how their enemies thought. Cold had noticed this a couple times on his earlier outings with the kid, particularly when Heatwave accidentally torched the stairwell to an apartment building and Piper had cost them five precious minutes refusing to leave until they'd put it out. Quite frankly, self centered men like the Rogues had not yet put it together that people with a functioning moral compass cared enough about innocent bystanders to put their own goals in danger. His next time out against Flash, when the job started to go sour Cold started blasting bystanders indiscriminately with ice blocks. Flash had been so busy melting ice and escorting people to the emergency room that Cold had gotten away clean.

There were other perks to having a wannabe-do-gooder on the team too, and one of those perks came on December 24th. The kid actually sent his criminal cohorts Christmas presents. And, though no one would ever admit it in public, he was pretty good at it.

Len was staring at his phone, wondering if h e should call his sister or not...it was Christmas Eve, and she was the only family he cared about enough to acknowledge...but then he'd be demonstrating feelings, and he certainly wasn't fond of that.

The scritching sound of little scrabbly nails on his window sill brought Len's attention from the phone to the window, where a rat with a package in its mouth was waiting. The rat scampered off as soon as he retrieved his festively decorated present. More excited than he cared to admit, Len quickly ripped off the paper to reveal refills for his ice-cream maker in specialty Christmas flavors like eggnog and gingerbread.

"How the hell did Piper notice..." He trailed off, uncomfortable. Len had an emotional attachment to ice-cream. Deciding that he'd feel paranoid in the morning, for the moment it was simply nice to be heard.

Across town Mark Mardon was expressing much the same sentiment to Digger Harkness over the phone. This was the third year of Piper-presents after all. They knew they had something to look forward to.

"Someone got the damn hint! He got me a leather bound gilt paged collection of Twain! And a set of highlighters for some reason, but still!"

"So the little fag noticed your favorite author. You gonna kiss him thank you or something?" Digger returned with a scowl.

"Oh give him a break. It's Christmas and he gave us presents. I think you went a little too far with the teasing last team-up." Mark said, while reverently stroking his new book.

"Yeah, I think I might have." Digger admitted. He'd just opened his gift. It was a garrish gay pride button with the slogan 'one in ten is not enough, recruit, recruit, RECRUIT!!' emblazoned in rainbow letters on it. The card read 'anytime you're ready to talk Digger, I'm here for you' signed with a quarter note.

Elsewhere Mick Rory was playing eagerly with a shiny new custom zippo, completely ignoring the fire extinguisher that had come with it (with the words 'please be safe' written across it), and Sam Scudder was admiring an antique cigarette case with compact mirror. Each of the Rogues (except Boomerang) temporarily admitted that they liked having Piper around. What none of them understood was why _he _chose to keep coming back.

That discovery was left to the new guy. James Jesse had only been on a couple team ups and was really just starting to get to know the other rogues. Therefore, he didn't know about the Piper-presents, and of course no one would have thought to tell him.

He'd planned a relaxing Christmas Eve for himself with the intention of causing some light mayhem on the holiday itself. The plum pudding bombs and antlered rubber chickens were waiting under his Charlie Brown style Christmas tree, and the Trickster himself was crashed on his couch watching a Christmas Story with hot chocolate and candy canes.

At first he didn't notice the scrabbling sounds, but when the delivery rat got stuck in the for-decoration-only chimney and started screeching, and the screeches echoed throughout the den...that James noticed. He leapt off the couch, promptly breaking into loud Italian cursing as his very hot cocoa spilled over his pajamas.

The rat kicked itself free and the package fell to the bottom of the fireplace to land on the hearth with an ominous thud. James never saw the rat. The poor little guy had decided the job was more trouble than it was worth and took off as soon as the box was out of his teeth.

James stared at the little rectangular box, adrenaline coursing through his system. He was a super criminal with a streak of jolly-sadism to his capers, and like most people, unconsciously assumed more people than not operated like him. And he'd have a hoot delivering booby trapped Christmas presents down chimneys.

James retrieved a yo-yo from an end table and shot it at the package. He got it to wobble a couple times, then skitter off the hearth and onto the hardwood floor, but nothing happened. Still cautious, James approached the box and gave it a hesitant prod. Again, nothing happened, so he opened the present. It was a scarf.

Huh.

There was nothing ominous about a scarf, was there?

He lifted it from the tissue paper, noting that it was an exceptionally soft scarf made of heavy blue and orange yarn. It'd probably be really good for the snowy weather they were having, actually. He tried the scarf on, got a good snuggle out of it, and finally noticed the card in the tissue paper. It was a very plain little card, just Merry Christmas and a quarter note.

James was intrigued.

Lil' Later

James changed out of his cocoa-stained jammies and into snow-appropriate attire that matched his new scarf (which he was becoming surprisingly fond of surprisingly quickly) and decided to test out the snow boot version of his air walking shoes. He ran across the skies of the Twin cities until he found the Pied Piper's apartment, and peered in through the living room window.

It was a very cozy looking scene. Coals were smoldering gently in the grate of the fireplace, with one empty stocking hung on the mantle. The floor was coated with Christmas CD cases and small hand instruments, and there was a real Christmas tree (as opposed to the ironic little thing he had at his house), although there wasn't anything under it. The place was modestly decorated and pleasant looking, if a little lonely.

Then James' eyes traveled to the sofa, and he almost overbalanced. At first glance it looked like Piper was sleeping with a big fur rug thrown over him. Then James noticed that the 'rug' was undulating. He was being eaten alive by rats!

Without thinking, James whipped open the window and dove into the room to save the other criminal. The rats, who of course had not been eating Piper, noticed the scary looking flying man headed towards the human who fed them, and with furious squeaks leapt on James and started biting wherever they could reach. He slammed into the coffee table, landed painfully on a sharp metal flute, and started rolling around the floor with his hands thrown protectively over his face (his beautiful, beautiful face!).

"Get them off! Get them off!"

"Huh?" Piper watched him dazedly for a second before the significance of what he was seeing caught up with his sleepy brain. "Hey guys! Get off, he's a friend!"

Instantaneously, the rats returned to Piper, finding perches on his slippers, lap or shoulders if they could.

James stared at him, looking a wee bit traumatized. "You...talk to rats?"

"I'm getting the hang of it, yes. Did you like the scarf?" He asked pleasantly.

"Oh yeah, thanks, it's-"

"I'm sorry. It's not a very good present, but I'm still just getting to know you, and when I saw the colors together it reminded me of your costume, so..." He shrugged apologetically.

"No-no, it's great! Um...is it normal to give accomplices Christmas presents?" James asked curiously.

"I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who does it." Piper admitted. He fished a treat out of one of his pockets and handed it off to a rat.

"Ah, good, cuz I didn't get anyone anything. So, uh, Merry Christmas?"

"And a happy New Year." Piper returned cheerfully. The honest good nature, and, well, especially the honest part...James was feeling a little awkward. Piper seemed to pick up on it, but only exacerbated the problem by offering him eggnog and sugar cookies.

"Uh, thanks. I don't suppose you have any Neosporin or anything, do you?" He was still smarting from the rat bites.

"Oh, sorry! I'll be right back." The rats scattered to different parts of the room when Piper got up, all out of sight. James was under the distinct impression they didn't like him.

He took off his snow boots and jacket (but left the scarf on) and flopped onto the sofa, flipping through one of the stacks of Christmas CDs while he waited for Piper.

Piper thunked a good sized first aid kit on his coffee table and immediately started dabbing disinfectant onto the bites. The rats cautiously emerged from their hiding spaces and gathered around him protectively. "I'm so sorry about that."

"Eh, I was breaking and entering. From the window it looked like they were eating you or something." Was it his imagination, or did the rats look indignant? 'No James, rats cannot understand English'.

"So what brings you here? I'm not sure if the others told you or not, but I don't work on holidays." Piper explained.

"Why not?" James asked, even though he hadn't been planning on a team up. For some reason he still found it insulting that Piper was turning him down.

Piper waved a hand to indicate his decorated living room. "I'm a bit of a Christmas geek, actually. I prefer spending the day as Hartley Rathaway, not the Pied Piper."

"Ah. With rats." James couldn't help but point out. He regretted it instantly; the other rogue looked stung.

"Yes, well, obviously it's a little less than ideal."

"Dude, why do you send Christmas presents to super criminals?" James asked suddenly, bothered more than he should have been. "We're all douche bags, and the things they say about you-"

"I know exactly what the Rogues say about me." Piper said in a voice that was a touch too calm. James snorted.

"Obviously not, because there's not way we'd all be getting hand wrapped Christmas presents. Dude they think you're gay-"

"I am gay."

"Oh. Wait, what?"

Piper smirked, while James looked increasingly flustered. "I know they rip on me for it, but it's still true. Nice of you to assume my sexual preference is inherently insulting though."

James frowned, looked down at the sugar cookie he was holding, then back up at Piper. "It's icky."

Piper started laughing at that. Even though he'd been tempted towards righteous indignation, he couldn't help but notice that the Trickster wasn't showing signs of elevated disgust or aggression, just an almost innocent confusion. "Well that's a very mature attitude."

"Hey, I'm the Trickster. I hit people with exploding yo-yos. Maturity is kinda the opposite of my gimmick." He pointed out.

"Alright, fair enough."

"So wait then, shouldn't you have, like, a boyfriend or something to spend Christmas Eve with? I still don't get wasting your sentimentality on jack asses like Boomerang and Cold, and, well, me. You don't even know me." James muttered, fingering the scarf he was beginning to suspect to be handmade. Piper just continued smiling at him, looking every bit a cheerful holiday nerd.

"Well you're the first one to say thank you, so I don't think it was much of a waste."

"Oh."

They sat in silence a moment, sipping their eggnog and munching their cookies, each lost in thought.

"So do you ever send stuff to the Flash?" James asked. Piper laughed.

"You'll appreciate this, yes, actually."

"WHY!? The guy's such a tool! No, wait, he's so full of tool that he's a tool bag-no! A tool shed!" They were both cracking up at that.

"Christmas before last, I was just feeling so lonely that I sent little cards to a whole bunch of people, almost at random, and Flash interpreted his as a threat for a crime spree. So now I send something to the Police station for him every year to screw with him. It's always something innocent, but he makes an ass of himself assuming I'm going to destroy the city with a fruitcake or something!"

"_Fruit_cake, eh?" James couldn't help repeating.

"Yes Trickster, a disgusting cake with blobs of what can debatably be labeled fruit cemented inside." Piper said warningly.

"Right, that's what I thought. Oh man, we should all get in on that one."

Piper shook his head. "Nah, the others all want to turn it into a real heist, and that's not the point. Besides, I don't work on Christmas."

"Well I think you should break your rule and hang with me tomorrow. I'm not doing anything heavy-just holiday themed pranks."

"And what would I do? Play carols while the yo-yos explode?" Piper asked sarcastically. James shrugged.

"It's up to you. I just thought the company'd be nice."

"Really?"

"But if super criminal shenanigans aren't your thing, let's hang tomorrow night and watch some Christmas specials. I'm alone this year too."

"O-okay." Piper said, smiling slowly at the thought.

"Oh, but if Flash gets me arrested, you'll have to bust me out of prison first."

"Of course."

"Great!" James stood up and slipped his coat back on. "Well thanks again for the scarf. I've gotta get back to my place and do another equipment check for tomorrow morning."

"Alright. Merry Christmas James."

"Yeah, you too Piper. See you tomorrow."

Later that night while Piper rinsed out the mugs they'd used for the eggnog, his eyes kept flicking to the kitchen table. Nested in a pile of the usual junk he accumulated on spare surfaces in his apartment were a couple of boxes with brown packing paper and return to sender stickers on them. Piper wiped his hands on his pants and frowned, staring the boxes down again. In addition to the return to sender stickers, his father had added a message in large black letters: YOU ARE DEAD TO US.

"Merry Christmas Mom and Dad." He muttered before dumping the presents in the trash. This was the fourth year running he'd tried to get the damn things delivered.

The real reason the Pied Piper sent presents to the other Rogues was also the same reason he kept coming back for team ups: because he honestly didn't have anyone else in his life. Still, when he saw news footage of plum pudding bombs going off in downtown Central while the Trickster flew overhead with a retinue of eight reindeer-chickens, he got to thinking that maybe the scarf, at least, had been a good investment.


	2. Rogues Secret Santa

_A/N: Last year over at Snark and Handcuffs on Livejournal (excellent Pipster community, I highly recommend it) we had a Christmas Countdown and I wrote a few submissions that I never posted here. Three of them are from the Piper Presents continuity, so I'm belatedly posting them as follow up chapters. Look for two more as Christmas approaches :)_

* * *

**Rogues Secret Santa**

**"**Anyone else getting the feeling that maybe we've gone a little soft since the kid took over as the scarlet dipshit?" Digger asked, frowning at the little slip of paper in his hand.

"What, just because half of us are supposedly reformed, we let him and his girlfriend hang out at our last party, and it's been awhile since anyone actually robbed anything?" Mark asked cheekily.

Digger shrugged. "All that doesn't bug me half as much as this." He motioned to the paper. "Having Secret Santas is just pushing it too much. Getting shitfaced and playing cards is one thing, but this? This is kinda fruity. And we don't even have a fruit in the Rogues anymore."

Mick let out a wistful sigh. "Piper always gave the best Christmas presents. Y'think he'll still do it even though he's working with the capes now?"

"Doubt it. And Digger, there's nothing inherently gay about buying your friends Christmas presents," Mark said, rolling his eyes.

"Friends maybe, but what about accomplices? I'm just saying, the fruit was the only one of us who ever did it and I think he was buttering us up-"

"Piper wasn't hitting on you Digger," Mick said with an eyeroll.

"Ever," Mark added. "If he was hitting on anyone, it was me or Trickster. We're the hot ones." Then he glanced down at his scrap of paper. "Oh balls, I can't shop for him! You're right Digger, this Secret Santa thing is friggin' gay."

"So are you volunteering to say that to Lisa?" Mick asked, grinning. Based on the squirms, the answer from both men was no.

Lisa bounced happily into the room, adorned with tinsel and glitter, looking very much to be in high Christmas spirits. "Hi boys. You all pulled your Secret Santas, right?"

They nodded obediently, not having much choice beyond polite assent. Len was standing behind his sister looking distinctly like an enforcer for her whims. James walked in behind them munching on a sugar cookie.

"I've still gotta draw," James said, approaching the little bowl with the three remaining scraps of paper. His face fell when he read his. "Balls! How'm I supposed to shop for him?"

Mark and Digger started giggling, but Mick whacked them when he noticed a dangerous looking pout from Lisa.

"You'll think of something." She grabbed the next-to-last paper, frowned when she looked at it, but managed to hold back an exclamation of balls. And of course it was impossible to tell what Len thought when he read his.

"Alright guys, you've got your assignments. Don't screw it up," Len snarled.

_CHRISTMAS EVE_

James waved to Mark and jogged to catch up to him as they made their way towards the hideout, both with brightly colored packages under an arm. "Hey, how went the shopping?" James asked.

"Managed. Let's get this over with."

They walked into the hideout and blinked a few times when they saw the interior. The walls were covered with green and yellow garlands and lights, there were ornamental tops and ice-skates hanging from doorways like mistletoe, and there was a large tree where the TV usually sat. Instead of a star or an angel at the top of the tree, there was a bloodied Flash doll with X's for eyes impaled through the top branch (sporting the old solid lightning belt).

"Well that's..."

"Disturbing," Mark said with a scowl.

"It's _almost _festive," James said, frowning. He put his present under the tree and Mark did likewise.

The other Rogues slowly trickled in. Roy took a picture of the tree and complimented the teal and magenta decorations (no one bothered correcting him anymore), while Len set up a punch bowl of rum with a drizzle of eggnog over the top.

"So, presents?" James asked.

"Sure. Wait, Lenny, put on Christmas music!" Lisa said. The Rogues collectively groaned, but Lisa insisted, so her brother reluctantly put on the radio and looked for Christmas music that wasn't grating.

"If Dominic the Donkey comes on, I'm zapping the radio," Mark threatened.

Lisa frowned, and jutted out her lower lip as her eyes welled with tears. "Roscoe and I always listened to Christmas music when we exchanged prese-"

"Alright, presents!" Len yelled, cutting that off before it descended into crazy. He grabbed a present at random and hucked it to its owner. "There you go Digger, Merry Christmas!"

Digger opened the present and held up a tie. "Really? Fucking fruity ass gift-swap."

"Sorry Digger. I was re-gifting. Kinda forgot about this thing until the last minute," Mick admitted. Len tossed Mick's gift at him and hit the side of his head. "Ow!" He opened it up, revealing a pack of lighters. "Did you buy these at the gas station on the way over?"

James laughed, while Lisa sighed. "We should have set a price range."

"Are you saying you don't _like _the lighters?" Mark snapped. "It's fine. Totally works. Hell, they're even a little thoughtful."

"Uh huh. Here's your present Mardon." Len tossed him a gift.

"Oooh. A six pack of a brand of beer I don't like." Mark passed the present right back to the person who'd blatantly got it for him, and Digger cracked one open and toasted him.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Digger, you didn't even try!" Lisa yelled.

"Yeah, but I got something I liked out of the deal. It's better than a fucking tie anyway."

"Hey, that was a nice tie! It just didn't work with my skin tone, okay?"

James slipped from the hideout as the Rogues erupted into squabbles.

_MEANWHILE_

Piper left the soup kitchen reeking of cheap gravy, but overall in good holiday spirits. There was a light fluffy snow falling during his walk home, and he had a visit with his parents and sister to look forward to for the next day. He started humming Christmas songs under his breath as he walked.

Then he noticed his house had been broken into.

Sighing, Piper stood on the sidewalk outside for a minute and listened. The only way he'd been able to tell, actually, was because the living room light was on and there was smoke coming from the chimney he rarely used. A quick listen brought the distinctive hum of flying shoes and a lovely voice singing 'O Holy Night' along with the radio to his ears.

Sounded like James was moving towards the kitchen. Smiling again, Piper let himself in and went to confront his uninvited guest.

"Hello James. Done with the Rogues Secret Santa already?"

"It was just as bad an idea as we thought it was. I figured I was better off spending the holiday with you, if that's okay."

"Are you making cookies?"

"Oatmeal raisin, peanut butter, and sugar."

Piper smiled. "Alright, you can stay. You know, between you and the chef I started seeing, I'm going to gain so much weight..."

"Oh c'mon, everyone pigs out on the holidays. You've got a new guy?"

"Maybe. We've had a few good dates. He's overseas for Christmas though, so I am free and you're more than welcome to stay."

"Well of course I am. I've got cookies."

* * *

Christmas morning found Piper and James asleep in the living room, with plates of cookies, crumbs and mugs of cocoa scattered around them. James woke first, and was still staring at the Christmas tree in stunned disbelief when Piper groggily opened his eyes.

"Morning James. Merry Christmas," Piper said around a yawn. "Is everything okay?"

"S-Santa came! Those weren't here last night!" James yelled, pointing at a pile of presents. Huh. Poorly wrapped presents. In the Rogues' colors.

"Oh, yeah. You know how I used to do presents for you guys before I reformed?" Piper asked. James nodded. "It took a few years, but the guys started getting me presents too. I'm still not sure how they get them in here without me hearing them, but this is the third year running."

Piper sat down and opened his presents. He got a handsome antique metronome from Mark, a book of Christmas carols with Norman Rockwell prints from Len, tickets to a music festival from Mick, and a treble clef made of chocolate from Digger.

James couldn't help but gape at the presents. "You should have seen the shit they were getting for each other. And I do mean _shit_. Digger got Mark beer for himself!"

Piper shrugged. "I always get them presents they like. Every now and then they show a little appreciation for it. Not enough to give me illusions that I ever fit in, or that I've made a mistake switching sides. But they're nice friendly gestures."

"Did Kid Flash get you a present too?" James asked.

"_The Flash, _and yes. He got me a gift certificate to Radio Shack."

James snorted. "A gift certificate? What, did he forget you were rich?"

Piper shrugged. "Gift certificates are still nice. Besides, unless we're counting cookies and company, you didn't get me anything."

"I did, but ah, it's not ready yet. So what'd your boyfriend get you?"

Piper frowned thoughtfully. "I don't know if I can call Michael my boyfriend yet-"

"But it's heading there?" James asked. Piper nodded with a telling stupid smile on his face. "Swell."

"Anyway, he made me fudge and when he gets back from visiting his parents we're going out to dinner."

"Well that's nice."

* * *

James had to break into a department store and find a new gift and a new Christmas card for Piper while he was out with his family. He finally settled on a stack of books on music and sound that he was pretty sure he'd never seen lying around his nerdy friend's house.

Obviously he needed something friendlier than what he'd originally planned.

The card with the carefully worded declaration of love (that he'd spent over a month writing, dammit!) went under James' mattress to wait for next year. He was pretty sure he could get rid of this 'Michael' by then.


	3. The Christmas Card

**The Christmas Card**

Piper woke up to rats running across his back. One of the smaller ones gave his ear a nip while a couple by his shoulder blades started their rendition of the 'feed me' dance. Sighing, he uncurled himself from the blankets and stumbled through the darkened mansion, holding his shoulder at an awkward angle lest he irritate the stab wound.

"You know you guys are capable of feeding yourselves when I need to sleep in, right?" He asked the group of them at large. The rats all sat up, eyeing him with that eager look that meant 'Yes, of course, we agree with whatever chatter you're making, now give us the food because we're ever so good!'

After he fed the rats, Piper skipped breakfast for himself and went to change the bandages and clean his injury. It felt like a futile effort-wrapping one's own shoulder was difficult enough to begin with, but keeping it clean in a decrepit building was next to impossible. And he'd been _impaled _with Libra's stupid spear. He wanted to clean up the rundown house so he'd have a more sterile environment to heal in, but he wasn't going to be up to cleaning the massive old house _until_ he healed up, meaning there really wasn't a winning option.

So Piper did the best he could with the bandages, and by the time he'd finished with that, the rats had finished breakfast and wanted perches on him again. He lazily pet one of them and glanced out the window.

"Alright guys, what should I do to fill the time today? And don't say feed you. I just did."

He could honestly say that this was never how he expected to spend a single Christmas season in his life; alone in his dead parents' house talking to rats. Not that he minded talking to rats, actually his affinity with them was a nice surprise, he'd just kind of expected to have human company too. Or, to have a lack of human company have been a conscious choice.

He got up, annoying several rats in the process, and ambled down to the basement and the piano, where he'd dumped his 'work' papers. Piper had clippings and stolen files on all the Rogues, but so far his 'working the side of the Angels' plan wasn't bearing any fruit. Maybe even after his shoulder healed he'd take things more slowly, spend some time with the flute getting better control over his newly discovered abilities, if he didn't scrap taking down the Rogues entirely.

The file of papers he'd swiped from the Keystone PD was sitting on top of the piano. Piper took it upstairs to look through it again. James' will was on top, but below that was a stack of personal papers and photos from the Trickster that he'd barely glanced through.

Time had taken some of the sting out of James' death, though it was still inarguably a painful subject for him to dwell on. Mostly he was still just confused. At one point they'd been pretty good friends, which was why they'd sought each other out when they'd been in trouble over the years, but by the time Deadshot had cornered them on that train, Piper and James had barely been speaking except to snipe vicious comments at each other.

And then James had flung himself in front of that hail of bullets. None of it made sense.

…no one should have been willing to die for him. He wasn't worth it.

Piper rifled through the papers and couldn't suppress a small smile when he found a snapshot of him and James when they'd been starting out as Rogues. He'd never dared mention this (especially not with all the fuss James had kicked up while they were cuffed together) but Piper had had _such_ the thing for James when they'd first met. It actually showed a little in the picture-Piper was dazedly staring at James, who was smiling dazzlingly for camera with an arm slung around Piper's shoulders.

Piper set the picture aside, deciding to hang it up later. Then he noticed an envelope with a poinsettia sticker sealing it shut. "Huh. Must be a Christmas card."

He just held the card for a minute, looking at it and being plagued by curiosity. But it seemed like an invasion of privacy to actually open the card…

But James was dead.

Curiosity won.

The Christmas card was an elegant little thing, printed on heavy cream cardstock with beautiful gold leaf detailing. Piper flipped it over to check how much it cost and confirmed his suspicion. It was at least five years old, if not ten, to be that nice and that cheap. Didn't quite seem like James' taste though. He would have expected a Christmas card from the Trickster to be loud, with some cartoon character or other on the front. Maybe it had been sent to him? But why hadn't it been opened then...

He read the inside, and then read it again to be sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. There was a very moving love letter written inside, which was problematic because it was addressed to Piper.

"That can't be right."

He reread the love letter another two times, then went through the file again until he found a memo from the Project. Yep, that was James' handwriting. In a Christmas card that was at least five years old (if not older).

His hands were shaking. Piper carefully set the card down and stared uncomprehendingly into space. Impressive. Desaad was _still_ finding new ways to hurt him from beyond the grave. If James had lived, if he had _said_ something…Piper had always been on the cusp of falling madly in love with his friend, but had held back because of James' perceived sexual orientation (James had always been such a good actor though).

The sharp distance James had put between them with those damn grating jokes for the last few months of his life started taking on a new perspective. The digs weren't characteristic…were they defensive or were they Desaad's influence? James hadn't given Piper the card, but he hadn't thrown it away either.

Piper went upstairs, curled back into his cocoon of blankets, and gave up on fighting the depression he'd been taking valiant strides in getting over. The rats fended for themselves for supper that night.

* * *

Christmas Eve found the Rathaway house and its sole occupant in much the same condition. The photo Piper had intended to hang up was still sitting in the living room, along with the Christmas card, both with edges that had been gnawed a little from the rats. Piper had barely moved, meaning he'd barely tended his injury and his fever had returned in full force.

Not that he'd taken his temperature anytime recently, but he could tell he was feverish. The violent shivering, for one. And the dreams…had to be fever dreams. Because he thought he'd heard someone running through the first floor of the house shouting for him, and no one had looked for him since, well…since the authorities had stopped wanting him as a murder suspect.

"Go 'way. Not real anyway," He ground out, trying to pull the blankets tighter around his shaking limbs.

Then he had to reassess the status of the fever dreams, because he was being cradled in someone's arms and run from the house, and he was pretty sure he wasn't loopy enough to hallucinate that.

* * *

Piper may not have dreamt being found and moved from his parents' house, but he still wasn't terribly coherent for the rest of the night. He woke up in a strange place on Christmas morning, feeling like crap and terribly confused.

And there were eyes in the doorway. Piper groggily looked up, just in time to see two sets of eyes go wide and then run away from the door. "H-hello?"

The door slowly opened wider, and then a girl sporting bright red pig tails and a flannel nightgown with fluffy slippers walked in. "Hi. Um…I'm not supposed to be bothering you, so when Mommy yells at me can you tell her real quick that you were already awake?"

"Okay…who's your Mommy?" Piper asked.

The little girl frowned. "She said you know her. Jai, I think Mom and Dad are lying to us again!"

"Do you think they're lying about having to wait to open Christmas presents?" A voice asked from behind the door.

"Jai?" Piper repeated, surprised. "Is your name Iris?"

"It's s'posed to be. But everyone calls me Irey instead cuz, cuz Auntie Iris is older so she gets to have the real name and I'm stuck with the little girl version."

"I must still have a fever. I thought you were a baby."

"Speed force," Jai said as he ventured fully into the room, and that was explanation enough for the moment. "Irey, Mom and Dad said he was sick. We should go wake them up, not bother him."

"You're right," Irey said with a frown, disappointed.

"And then when they're awake we can open presents."

Irey rolled her eyes at her brother, then returned her attention to Piper. "Um…do you want me to get Mommy and Daddy or can I ask you something first?"

"You can ask me something."

"Are you really my Godfather? Because Jai's got one, and we've both got Godmommies, but, um…I didn't have one before, and then the loud man with the funny clothes came over and said you needed help and we went to look for you together and Mommy said you were my Godfather, so I just wondered."

Piper nodded. "Yeah, I'm your Godfather."

"Well where have you been?" She looked offended. "Jai's Godfather visits him sometimes and gives him presents. Did you not like me or something?"

Before he could even begin to piece together an explanation, Irey hopped onto his sick bed and gave him a hug. "Doesn't matter, you're here now so we can start over. Hi, I'm Irey and I have a Nintendo DS. I have a pink one and Jai has a red one. You should get me games when it's time for us to get presents again."

"Speaking of presents…" Jai said impatiently.

"Right, right, let's go get Mom and Dad. Bye Goddaddy! Feel better!" And then Irey ran from the room at superspeed. Jai lagged after her mumbling under his breath.

Deciding he was too tired and achy to make sense of that encounter just then, Piper fell back asleep.

* * *

He woke up again to excited shrieks and squeals as the twins shredded their Christmas presents. Ignoring the stabbing pain in his shoulder and the protests from his weakened limbs, Piper got up and ventured out of the bedroom into the rest of the house.

He found the living room, where Irey and Jai were enthusiastically tearing into a sizable haul of presents while their father sleepily filmed them, their mother snapping at them to stop and hold up their presents for the camera, and say who they were from when they weren't 'Santa's'.

Linda saw him leaning on the doorway first. "Hartley! What are you doing? Get back to bed! Do you know how infected your shoulder is?"

"Got an idea…sorry, I won't intrude."

"Hey, that's not it. Piper, at least sit down." Wally put the camera down, then helped Piper over to the couch. "We have some catching up to do, I was just waiting for you to feel be-"

"_DAD_! I'm going to open it without the stupid camera if you don't get back here!" Jai yelled.

"It's not too late to replace your presents with coal if you don't watch that attitude mister!" Linda warned him.

"But Mo-om! That one's taller than I am!"

"Just let him open it," Wally said, taking a seat next to Piper. "I think we filmed enough for posterity."

"Oh fine."

Jai fiendishly unwrapped the paper, and squealed when he revealed a keyboard. "Yes! Santa did get my list!"

"How'd I do?" Wally asked out of the corner of his mouth.

"Huh?"

"Jai's growing up into a real music nut and I was stumbling in the dark. I just picked a big one with all the features I could find. Is that keyboard actually any good?"

Piper squinted to see the box around Jai's excited flailing. "It's not bad, but there are better. Wally…what's going on? The last time we talked, you…"

"Left you in a hotel room with a mummy, I know." He looked a little sheepish. "I…wasn't in a very good space at the time. Come on, me behaving like an idiot isn't anything new to either of us, is it?"

"I suppose not," Piper agreed.

"When I stopped and thought about it, of course I realized you'd never hurt Bart. He's alive again, in case you didn't get the memo. I've been trying to find you for awhile now to apologize, but well…parenting is time consuming."

"And so are zombie invasions. It's okay, I get it."

"No, Piper, I mean it. I've missed having you around, and you damn well shouldn't have been trying to heal up alone in a rat infested house-"

"I like the rats."

"So not my point," Wally grumbled.

Piper smiled. "I'd like to be friends again."

"Cool. Maybe Trickster won't kill me then."

"T-Trickster?"

"Irey said she told you. Hey Irey! Didn't you tell Piper-"

"Nope! Thought I did but nope! Hey Goddaddy, I changed my mind! Santa got me lots of DS games so can you get me a kitten instead?" Irey was attempting to swim through wrapping paper while her mother was trying to stuff it into a trash bag.

"Tell me what? Wait, was James…"

"Resurrected." And there he was standing in the doorway. "Saving all of reality's ass from Neron earned me a Christmas miracle, I guess. I also got a cryptic remark about a Christmas card I never delivered."

Against his better judgment, Piper shot off of the couch and stumbled through the sea of presents and wrapping paper. James met him halfway and caught him as he fell. "Did you find it?" James whispered.

"Yes."

James smiled. "Good. Should'a delivered that thing years ago. Merry Christmas Hart."

James cupped Hartley's face in his hand for a tender kiss, and the lovely moment wasn't quite ruined by Wally's surprised squawk. Linda elbowed him in the ribs.

"Hey! I can't be the only one who feels like I missed something."


	4. Sugar Cookies

**Sugar Cookies**

Christmas Eve in Keystone was accompanied by a massive snowstorm that made a joke of the streets, ruining many a Christmas party and wreaking havoc with peoples' plans. It made two reformed Rogues in particular very happy they'd kept a small social circle since Trickster's resurrection.

"Glad I did all my holiday volunteering with checks this year," Piper commented, looking at the wall of white out the window.

"I told you, there's no shame in contributing financially instead of in person. You know, as long as you're incredibly wealthy and the financial contribution isn't a pittance," James said with a grin. "Now c'mon, we're supposed to be all cozy watching Christmas spe-"

The phone rang.

James gave Piper a _look_ as he started towards it. "Do not answer that phone. It's Christmas Eve and you said you'd watch the Grinch and Charlie Brown with me."

"It could be important..."

"But I'll bet you anything it isn't."

"If the world's about to end-"

"Babe, this might hurt, but the Justice League isn't going to call us. There are a whole lot of people they trust more who can do the things we can. Not as well mind you, but that's their loss. Piper I mean it, put that phone-augh!" James pulled a throw pillow over his face and groaned loudly, collapsing backwards onto the couch with much melodrama.

"Hello? …Hi Wally, Merry Christmas…yes, of course James is here…um, have you seen what it's like outside? …well yes…um, actually we were…um…"

"No, Piper, just say no. Just say _no_."

Piper put his hand over the mouth of the phone. "It's Christmas Eve and they don't have cookies for Santa. Irey's crying, James. It's going to ruin her Christmas."

"Well I guess her _FATHER _should have _PREPARED _for this!" James yelled. He managed to be heard despite Piper's hand over the mouthpiece, because Piper was clearly getting an earful.

"He _was _on his way to buy the cookies yesterday when he was sidetracked by saving lives."

"He's the Flash! How long does it take him to get cookies? Can't he just run to a different time zone to get the cookies now?" James demanded.

"Yeah Wally, that's actually a really good point. How come you can't go somewhere that's open to get the cookies…oh." He put his hand over the mouthpiece again. "Apparently he's got to buy half their Christmas presents. He won't be back in time for the twins to see the cookies going out. Come on James, this is the kind of thing that could ruin a kid's Christmas. I always had such sucky Christmases when I was young. I'd like it if my goddaughter's were as perfect as they could be."

"Oh, oh, playing the damaged childhood card and the godfather thing, that's just…cheap. And effective. Fine. So what's the plan? He's gonna run over here and grab 'em, right? Piper?"

"Um…he hung up already. I think he's off to buy the Christmas presents."

James looked out the window at the swirling blizzard. "No. No-no-no-no. We are not _delivering_ cookies in a snowstorm! Pi-per…"

"James, we already said we would."

"We _so_ did not! I did not agree to those conditions! He hung up prematurely."

"James, Irey is crying…"

"But…but…_snow_…"

**SOME TIME LATER**

Linda was sitting in the living room with her children idly staring out the window, when she saw a blurry shape moving towards the house. At first her hand was on a JL communicator to call for help, but then she noticed patches of glaringly bright orange and blue peeking through the snow. "Oh what did my husband do now?"

She left her children in the living room watching Christmas specials, went into the kitchen to put the teakettle on the stove, went into the guest room to get some blankets, then made her way to the front door just in time for the doorbell.

James and Piper brought a small mound of snow in with them as they basically fell into the front hall. James was carrying Piper, who had a plastic bag clutched in his shaking hands. From the looks of it they'd run over the inaccessible streets via jet shoes.

"Hi guys," Linda greeted, bemused.

"H-hello."

They quickly shrugged out of their soaked coats, mittens, scarves, hats and boots and graciously accepted the blankets. "I've got some water on the stove for cocoa and the kids are watching Charlie Brown by the fire. Why don't you go warm up and then you can tell me why you're here?"

James shot Piper a glare. "I thought we were here to save Christmas."

"Did someone threaten to steal it?" Linda joked. Then she looked at the bag Piper was holding again. "_Did you bring cookies_?"

"You still need them, right? We didn't run here in the blizzard for nothing-"

"Oh, _we_ ran, did we?" James snapped. Piper rolled his eyes.

"Wally made it sound urgent. He said Irey was crying."

"She was. I finally got the kids to calm down and watch cartoons. Jai was convinced Santa was going to think we're cheap and only give them half as many presents when he sees there aren't any cookies. Which was almost true, but Wally should be rectifying that mistake as we speak. Oh, if you brought cookies then you actually are saving Christmas."

"We don't have cookies exactly…I kinda ate them all when I was wrapping presents yesterday," James admitted. "But…" He took the bag from Piper and showed it to Linda. "I went through the pantry and got all the ingredients for my sugar cookies. I figured you and the rugrats could make the cookies yourselves…? Y'know, family activity?"

Linda beamed. "That's perfect! Here, give me that," She took the bag of ingredients and started walking towards the kitchen. "I'll set up and bring you guys your cocoa, and then we can all make cookies together."

"We? Linda, this is family time," Piper pointed out.

Linda quirked an eyebrow. "You're not leaving in the blizzard."

"But Linda-"

"I'm sorry James, did that sound like a question?"

"You can't use the Mommy voice on me! I'm a grown man."

"Please, I use the Mommy voice on the Flashes. All of them."

"They listen too. I've seen her do it," Piper whispered, smiling. "I guess we're staying."

James still looked reluctant. It was tempting. The West home was nice and warm, he'd been grooming the kids in proper cartoon appreciation every time they babysat, so they were watching exactly what he'd wanted to watch for Christmas specials, and the house would soon be filled with the smell of delicious baked goods. But one obstacle remained. "Isn't your husband going to have issues with us butting in on your family holiday time?"

"He'll have to suck it up. Besides, he's the one who made you come over during a blizzard. You're our friends, not delivery boys."

"Linda, I don't think I express my sincere appreciation for your charm and beauty often enough," James said with a grin.

She waved her hand in a manner that highlighted her wedding ring. "Flattered but spoken for."

So the three adults and two children baked special Santa cookies together, and when the children were asleep the adults ate the cookies, leaving conspicuous crumbs on the plate. James wrote up a note (in penmanship the twins would never recognize) thanking them for the wonderful cookies and signed it with an S, then they helped Linda put out the presents she had on hand.

"Well that's not much of a haul," James observed.

Linda was looking at her watch. "That's about to change. Wait for it…"

There were a few blurry sweeps of red through the room, each one adding more and more presents until the living room was overflowing. Finally Wally stopped in the center of the room, and his face fell when he noticed Piper and James standing with Linda. "What are you guys still doing here?"

"Not freezing to death," Linda snapped. "And really Wally, you couldn't have run over and gotten the cookie ingredients before you went shopping?"

"I…uh…the stores were gonna close."

"Every store on Earth?" Piper asked.

"Hey, Christmas was saved. It all worked out in the end. There's totally no reason for anyone to be mad at-_ow_!" Wally rubbed the back of his head where he'd been whacked with a yo-yo.

"Merry Christmas. Your wife already said we could stay," James informed him.

"Linda-"

"Piper's practically family anyway, and he and James are a package deal," She pointed out. "Plus they make amazing cookies."

"And we saved you some," Piper added.

Wally looked at Linda again, as though checking this was really okay. "So…when Jai shakes us awake at four am, can one of them do the video camera this year-_ow_! I'm gonna take that yo-yo if you keep doing that!"

"You're welcome to try."

"Hartley, you're normally up late anyway, would you actually mind?" Linda asked. "Last year Wally got some spectacular footage of the ceiling and some torn wrapping paper on the rug, but I didn't see much of my children."

"I'd gotten less than an hour of sleep! So my hands weren't steady, big deal. Plus you're exaggerating. We got at least five minutes of Jai flipping off the camera and diving behind the Christmas tree while Irey sang Silent Night."

"I don't mind helping."

"Cool. Thanks Piper."

* * *

Piper and James settled themselves into the guest room, James making all kinds of threats if Piper tried to wake him up at four am ("Seriously, I love you and everything, but I will bite you if you expect me to be up with less than two hours of sleep!").

James took another look at the blizzard through the window, then flopped onto the bed and snuggled up to his boyfriend. "Not that this isn't kinda nice in a weird way or anything, but you really do gotta start saying no sometimes."

"Why?" Piper asked. "Tonight we baked cookies and watched your favorite Christmas cartoons with the kids. Those were pretty much our plans anyway, we just got to do them with company. The only part that's missing are my rats."

"You would say that, wouldn't you? Ah well…Merry Christmas Pookie."

"Merry Christmas James."

**The End**


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